


Quit Playing Games With My Heart

by spaceslut1969, The Romanian Devil (TheDreadPirate)



Series: Cafe [1]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannigram AU - Fandom, Spacedogs - Fandom, hannigram - Fandom
Genre: Gamer Cafe, M/M, Reference to Will Graham, Spacedogs Summer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-10 04:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceslut1969/pseuds/spaceslut1969, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreadPirate/pseuds/The%20Romanian%20Devil
Summary: Nigel needs a face-to-face with a business partner but his only option is online. Sadly for him, he is technologically challenged. Adam pauses his game and online “socialization” to rescue the man who obviously wandered into this turf without a clue.





	1. Chapter 1

Nigel is already seething when he steps inside a room lit only by black lights and the harsh glow from dozens of computer screens. He wonders when internet cafes started looking like nightclubs.

“What the fuck is this Darko? Some sort of fucking spaceship themed, geek night club?” Nigel growls into the phone clutched in his hand.

He feels foolish for even being in a place like this, surrounded by people not only younger but far more tech savvy than he’ll ever be. It’s that feeling of ignorance that has Nigel even more pissed off than usual.

“What the hell are you on about? I looked up the closest place with rentable computers and there you go.” Darko sighs heavily. “And who fucking cares what it looks like? Just hurry your ass, the client will be logging onto to Skype in 20 minutes.”

Nigel grumbles at that, still standing at the room's entrance, eyeing the electronics and people like they are part of a plot to destroy him.

“I have to log onto this 'skip' too then?”

“Nenorocitule, I clearly said Skype and you still haven’t created an account like I told you, huh?”

“Fuck you pizdă! I’m no fucking child. We didn’t have all this fancy shit when I was a kid.” Nigel says angrily, getting louder by the minute and causing some patrons to shush him without even glancing his way. It makes him that much angrier that he can’t even properly intimidate anyone in the establishment.

“It’s not that hard, old man,” Darko chuckles. “If only you had let me buy you a smartphone this would all have been so much easier. But, of course, you still think a phone that flips is cool. So just suck it up and ask someone how to log onto a computer, into Skype and then-“

“I’ve gotta log in a computer now too!?" Nigel roars. "What the fuck else, Darko?! Shall I launch rockets into orbit as well?!”

\---

Adam was tucked into the spot he was every Wednesday, the closest seat next to the door of the cafe.

‘Be social,’ his father had said. ‘Social interaction is an important part of being an adult, Adam.’

Since his father was gone, his two hour ‘social activity’ remains on his weekly schedule. He had happened on this place by accident a few weeks ago. With the internet being frustratingly slow in his apartment building, the small cafe had caught his interest. It was a quicker walk than to the library and the library didn't serve cheese sticks.

And it was social, Adam had realized. People didn't really socialize with each other here, but there were people in a social setting. So, this was his social activity.

It didn't take long for Adam to pick up a space-themed game and even enjoy his weekly visits. Here he could hide under the large headphones that cushioned his ears against the sounds he found unpleasant and allow his fingers to tap against the colored keyboard. His busy fingers seemed to send calm waves from their tips when he fell into a constant, smooth pattern of keys. Even his eyes and attention were kept distracted by the lights and constant interactions of the screen.

That was, when people weren't yelling.

Adam slowly moved the puffy headset from his ears and let it fall around his neck as he observed the man. Most of the time, it was rude to listen to other’s conversations, but the man wasn't making it easy to ignore the curses that spilled from his mouth. People were usually fairly quiet except for the occasional bursts of profanity or frustrated groans.

The man's appearance distracted him for a moment before he could remember he was upset.

The cursing man didn't look like most of the men that came and passed by Adam. Most of the customers of the cafe weren't as tall as he was, most didn't have blonde hair that seemed very touchable and soft against anxious hands. He nearly felt bad for whoever he was yelling at on the phone, the man didn’t seem like someone you would want to fight with. Adam imagined his muscled arms and heavy hands were capable of fighting, among other things that hands and arms were good for.

Even his shirt was eye catching.

While Hawaiian shirts were common, Adam had never seen a shirt covered in dogs instead of flowers. He had to wonder if the little orange Dachshunds were a reference to something Adam didn't understand. Funny shirt and soft hair or not, he was being loud.

“You aren't supposed to be that loud, you're being disruptive. And logging into a computer isn't comparable to launching rockets. To launch a rocket, given that you've already done your calculations, you’d have to mix the oxidizer and the propellant correctly, through hoses.

“For the Space Shuttle, the process took about six hours. Many rockets with a heavy payload need an extra boost off the ground, so they have additional solid fuel motors, which burn a murky slurry combo of combustibles. And when it's launched the transition from subsonic to supersonic speed, Mach 1, or about 760 mph, puts a heap of stress on a rocket, so you have to control the throttle adequately. Throttling back the liquid engines temporarily removes the force of acceleration to help the rocket get through the sonic barrier, and once it does, you can open the throttle back up to push on into orbit. But all you need to sign into a computer is a username, password, and form of payment. They aren't very similar.”

After he finished explaining, Adam practically beamed with pride. He was socializing.

\---

Nigel stared, jaw dropped to his chest, at the young man seated to his right. Nigel's gut reaction is to knock the guy out for reprimanding him, but not only is there a more pressing matter at hand, the guy is also pretty hot.

Nigel finds this fact allows him a patience that he's rarely known as the man goes on and on about rockets; explaining who the fuck knows what about them, but sounding damned smart about it.

“I think I've found help- Darko? Fucker!” Nigel says into his phone but gets no response. He looks at it and sees Darko has ended the call.

“That little cock sucking piece of shit hung up on me,” Nigel mutters in disbelief as he pockets the phone and then aims his intense focus at his only option to get online.

“You, Rocketman. You can help me then,” Nigel tells the guy, he doesn’t ask.

“Oh. Um.” Adam's eyes returned to his own screen for a moment before looking back at the loud stranger. “Okay, I can help you.”

It would have been mean of him to have not helped.

“Would you like to sit next to me? It would be easier to show you.” As he spoke, Adam pulled the black headphones back over his head to neatly set it down at the computer desk.

Nigel's smirk is especially smug as he claims the proffered seat. He likes when people are quick to obey him.

“Right. I need to log in a thing called skape for an interview, have you heard of it?” Nigel states easily, suddenly confident that he knows what he’s talking about.  

“Skape?” Adam frowned as he thought. “Well there's Runescape, but I don't think people have interviews there. Is it a game, O-or a program or…” He tried to guess what the older man meant. He'd seen interviews take place in the back on occasion, but not on ‘skape’.

“There's Skype. People have interviews there.” He offered.

“Yeah that, whatever,” Nigel shoves down the shame of his ignorance once again.

He would have pistol whipped any other man that dared correct him. It's lucky for the kid that Nigel liked his face as much as he needed his help.

“I never made a fucking username thing neither.” He slides a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, pulls out a stick with his lips.

“Oh, well that isn't very hard.” Adam rolled his chair closer besides the man and shifted the keyboard and mouse towards himself. “You just need a phone nu-”

Adam had turned his head to glance at the man only to see him place a cigarette in his mouth. “You can't smoke in here.”

Nigel’s lighter freezes halfway to his face. He contemplates, again, telling the nosy little fucker off; until he finally gets a better look at him.

He gets only a too brief glimpse of beautiful blue eyes as they work hard to avoid his own. He finds solace watching pretty, magenta tinted lips as they are caught between perfect teeth.

Nigel gives himself a mental shake as he checks the time. He needs this interview to go off without a hitch so he tosses the cigarette, lighter, and cell phone onto the tabletop between their computers.

“No elevated voices, no smoking, and you’ve my cellular now. What else can I fucking do for you, gorgeous?”

“You could stop cursing,” Adam suggested. “You've said 10 curse words since you came in. And you really shouldn't smoke at all, smoking is bad for your skin, teeth, and lungs. And it makes you smell funny.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, darling,” Nigel says with a chuckle having no intention of stopping fucking cussing or smoking.

He then suspects that his lack of anger towards the other man is due in part to his way of speaking; his brutal honesty makes him all the more attractive.

Adam avoided the rest of what was on the table to take Nigel's phone. The man had a flip phone, Adam smiled. Maybe he was what Harlan called a ‘damned hipster’. That would explain the odd shirt he supposed.

After a moment of quick keystrokes, the boy was done with what he could help with.

“You can pick a name and password and then put in everything else.” With downcast eyes and a slight smile on his lips, Adam looked back up towards the man. “Then you should be able to do your interview.”

Nigel leans closer to the computer screen, barely understanding what he was seeing. His eyes then dropped to the keyboard and narrow further as he begins typing his name with just his right forefinger. He then enters his birth date for a password, it being the only one he’s ever used.

Hesitantly, Adam inched his chair back towards his own desk, and more importantly his waiting game. The man didn't seem to need any more help.

Nigel completes his sign up, the rest was self-explanatory. He steals glances at his neighbor as he waits the last five minutes until his meeting.

“So, I smell, do I? Am I really that disgusting?” Nigel asks in hopes of prolonging the conversation.

The odd question sits in Adam's mind. He could think of a few descriptive words for the man but he didn't think disgusting was one of them. With his eyes determinedly focused on the black screen, he answered the question with as much of a matter of fact tone as he gave to his rockets.

“You aren't disgusting. Actually, you're fairly attractive which tends to be the opposite of disgusting. Even if you smell like tobacco.”

Nigel grinned. He truly enjoyed that bluntness.

“That’s wonderful to know.” He leans towards him, extending his hand. “I’m Nigel by the way.”

“My name is Adam Raki.” Adam looked down at the outstretched hand before placing his own in Nigel's. Limply Adam shook the man's hand but his attention remained defiantly on Nigel’s gripping hand instead of the determined eyes that searched for Adam's.

“Adam Raki,” Nigel rolls the name on his tongue, holding firm to his hand as Adam still refuses to meet his eyes. “I’m sure you can tell I’m shit at computers so thank you for the help.”

“Nigel.” He repeated the name given to him. If he repeated Adam's name, maybe Adam was supposed to do it too. He let go of Nigel's hand and offered him a second small smile.

“You're welcome. If um, if you like, you can add me on Skype. To make sure it's set up properly.” He offered

Nigel’s eyes widen at Adam’s offer, marveling at how easy it is to get a number these days.

“I would like that, darling,” He all but purrs at Adam before turning back to the computer. He squints as he scans the screen to ‘add’ Adam. “But how in the hell do I accomplish that?”

“Oh. You have to search for my name it’s um….” Adam's eyes shifted to his computer to focus intently on the black screen. “It's spaceslut1969.” He informed the blank screen in a quick, hushed breath.

Nigel turned slowly to the boy who was avoiding him more completely now.

“Spaceslut1969?” Nigel fought a grin. He knew people exaggerated on the internet, especially with their names, but… “Are you a slut, Adam?”

Adam could feel a searing heat spread across his face and knew he was blushing. The name coming from Nigel’s mouth and the following question scratched mercilessly at his uncovered ears.

“No! No, I'm... I'm not a... that was a joke I-I’ve had the name since I was 15, I didn't really know what that word meant until I was older. Mark told me the word meant I really, really liked space and now I think it's humorous b-because that’s that’s not what slut really means. I am not attracted sexually to space, o-or the moon landing, or men in weird shirts.”

The words came rushing out of Adam in a single, drawn out breath. It was a stupid name, Adam had known that but silly names didn't normally have to be explained to real people.

He didn't turn his gaze to Nigel once in his tumbling of words. His eyes remained on the screen as his hands tapped furiously on the wooden desk as if he could make Nigel and his questions leave. If only he found the correct rhythm to use.

Nigel smiles throughout Adam’s nervous rant as he types in the younger man’s screen name. He sees how easy it is to use the Skype now and scoops up his cell. He finds the text message Darko sent with the new client’s name and searches for that too. He checks the time, seeing he still had a few minutes to spare.

“You needn’t make excuses, darling. Being a slut isn’t something to be ashamed of in my book.” Nigel teases. “But what’s this about weird shirts? You don’t like dogs?”

“I know it's not shameful to have numerous sexual partners, but I've only had sex with 3 people. I-it's supposed to be a joke I already said that. And I like dogs! I don't own any but my cousin in Virginia has seven dogs and I like them.” Adam grew more frustrated as he continued to tap at the desk which quickly became more like hitting the desk than lightly tapping his fingers on it.

Nigel finally realizes that Adam is getting more agitated than embarrassed.

“I’m sorry to make you so upset Adam. I must admit, it’s difficult not to encourage your gorgeous blushing.” Nigel checks his watch again, seeing that it’s time to make his call. He leans over and places a hand over Adam’s to still his frantic hands before sliding the headphones that sit at each station. Nigel places a finger to his lips, indicating for Adam to be silent.

Any words Adam might have given in response to the apology became lost in his throat as Nigel's hand fell on his. He glanced back towards him and immediately recognized the signal. That meant, be quiet.

He shoved his words down further as he pulled his hands back and with quick, jerky movements he shoved his things back into his satchel and silently rose from his seat. Adam traveled the short route to the door and without a look back, he slipped through it. Adam's social activity was over, he wanted to go back home and change his stupid Skype name.

Nigel opened his mouth to call Adam back. He hadn't meant to run him off, he just needed a few minutes to-

"Nigel, my friend! Ready to talk business" The Russian's voice grates on Nigel's ears as much as his ugly face offends his eyes.

Nigel spares a minute to regret Adam's leaving but then he smiles at the thought of finding the boy soon enough. He squares his shoulders, ready to get to work.

"Kirill, let's do this."


	2. Chapter 2

The meeting went off better than he expected. Kirill was his usual piece of shit self, trying to goad Nigel into verbal sparring with his tasteless arrogant nature, but luckily Nigel’s mind was too occupied to engage with the asshole.

He paid Kirill just enough lip service to get the parameters of the job finalized. Then he ended the call, closed the browser, and got the hell out of what passes for a cafe in the States.

He lights up a cigarette straight away but pauses merely 10 paces away. He storms back into the place and up to the counter, swiping a flyer with the business hours printed on it.

“Dude! There’s no smoki-” Nigel cuts the clerk off with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, cigarette tucked at the corner of his mouth.

He’s inside his car and headed to his hotel in a matter of moments. Windows rolled down, classic rock blaring from the speakers, head pleasantly settled in a nicotine haze.

He pounds a fist on the steering wheel as he sings along to ‘Rock Me Like a Hurricane’.

He flicks his cigarette at a wall after parking in the hotel garage and heads straight to the hotel bar.

Nigel orders whatever imperial stout is on tap. He looks around for someone to clink glasses with but apparently, he’s the only person drinking at 1pm so he shrugs and takes a long pull off his beer. It’s not as good as Romanian stout but it’ll do the trick.

He pulls his wallet out to pay the bartender and with it the cafe flyer. It had been impulsive, the entire situation.

He wasn’t seriously thinking about going back to that geek’s den… except he most certainly was. Has been seriously thinking about those pretty, albeit disappointed, blue eyes.

The job doesn’t start for another week yet so he has time to kill. And what better way is there than to show Adam he wasn’t just a walking, talking, smoking, cursing asshole. Nigel could be sweet when he wanted to and he could damn sure entice some video game nerd. How hard could it be?

\---

Adult socialization. No matter how much the idea disinterested him, that’s what he did on Wednesdays. It was one of the few things on his schedule that his father had to enforce, well, along with shaving. But it had grown to be tolerated and rather recently, genuinely enjoyed.

He stared down at the blue tennis shoes that had reminded him of the color of the sky when he bought them. The very tips of the well-worn shoes stood precisely at the edge of the cold blotchy greyness of the curb that lead to the street. Why did that thin little line feel like a large barrier to be fought against?

When Adam was younger, his father had to coax him into crossing the street. It was always a loud, rumbling place to be and held a certain danger about it. With soft words and a promise of a treat if he went, his father would grip the boy’s hand and lead him through.

It was a stupid thing to think about; his father was dead and he could buy himself any treat he wanted and eat it whether he crossed the road or not. While Adam was no longer afraid of the cars that sped by, a different danger kept him from crossing the street that separated the used book store which was humorously named ‘A Novel Idea!’ (Harlan had explained the joke to him) and the cafe he normally spent his Wednesday afternoons.

The cafe that he had picked by himself housed threats more unpleasant than the loud sounds and smothering smells that old cars brought. Inside the computer filled cafe were questions Adam didn’t want to find answers to and sharp-toothed smiles that sent an ache to his belly.

Still, it was the cafe he had picked on his own and the cafe he wanted to be in for his social activity. Why should a rude man that yelled and smoked and wore stupid shirts make Adam ruin his schedule?

Besides, the man probably wouldn’t be inside anyways. He had been there for an interview, it wouldn’t make very much sense for him to return again. And it was even more unlikely that he would return at the exact same time Adam visited.

And with a new-found assurance, Adam’s feet stepped out into the crosswalk and hurried along to cross under the red flashing ‘open’ sign that hung above the open door.

\---

Nigel’s exit from the internet cafe the next day was similar to the first; in a cloud of smoke and determined to be rid of the place.

He’d only gone back in order to get a little of the pretty boy’s time but Adam wasn’t even there. Then the fucking staff wouldn’t tell him how or when Adam usually shows up, like Nigel had something nefarious planned for the kid!

He wanted to strangle the little shit behind the counter but instead he remembered to use the breathing exercises his court ordered anger therapist had suggested the last and final time he got caught. He was surprised at how often it actually did help. That and visualizing happiness. Focusing on something that can supersede his anger. This time he happened to recall Adam’s email, spaceslut1969, and smiled.

He’d grinned at the clerk then, resolving to stick around and wait for Adam to show. He passed over enough cash for a couple hours and then planted himself in a seat facing the entrance.

He sat there for two hours, scowling at anyone who dared not be Adam.

He left in a huff. Scowling at the clerk who was eyeballing the cigarette he already had in his mouth waiting to be lit. He’d gone back to his hotel to drink as he had the day before, but this time he had some feelings to work through.

Nigel doesn’t do well with not getting what he wants.

He’d never been spoiled a day growing up so when he finally had big money at his disposal he always made sure to treat himself to any and everything. Food, cars, clothes, even pieces of ass; he always got what he wanted and if not, there’d be hell to pay.

But today, sipping the too foamy head of a shitty stout, the disappointment of not getting what he wanted was different somehow.

There was no one to blame but himself to start with. He had no business chasing after tail with all the shit he had going on. His new job starts in just seven days and he should be focusing on that. He’s only got enough money to stay in town for another couple weeks so he needs this gig to go over flawless.

But Adam wasn’t just a hot little piece to be plied with liquor and dance off the club floor to a secluded place for a quickie. No, he was pretty sure that Adam would be work.

The question, Nigel ponders now as he knocks back the dregs of his beer, is how much he’s willing to do just to see where things would go with the younger man.

He signals for a refill, thinking about the fact that he doesn’t know the kid well at all to make a list for and against pursuing him. All he had to go on was the pretty eyes that he’d only glimpsed in a dim room and Adam’s refreshing bluntness. Oh, and the mutual attraction, he couldn’t forget that.

Nigel knew he was good looking, he got side eyes from ladies and gents all the time, but coming from Adam the complement had made him feel... special.

Nigel grimaced at the idea. Just because the guy was obviously very intelligent, enough at least to understand how rockets work. That didn’t mean he was a good judge of a person’s attractability.

In the end, Nigel had one more stout and then went upstairs to skulk at the hotel room walls. He ate dinner there alone. Laid down in bed alone. He jerked off thinking about sluts surviving in space, alone.

Then he slapped himself as hard as he could because this isn’t the way Nigel Ibanescu behaves!

“You stop your little whining bullshit and just find the sexy nerd!” He yelled into the quiet room.

The next day he dicked around the hotel a bit before heading over to the cafe. This time he decided to not just wait for Adam, instead he payed for a full day and then asked how to turn on the computer and start a game. The familiar clerk was a little surprised but he led Nigel over and helped him out nonetheless.

It was terrible at first. Trying to remember which buttons to push and all. But eventually he got the hang of it. He couldn’t remember the title of the game if you asked him but killing people was familiar territory and he was able to make do.

That entire day, though his interest for the game had grown, he never stopped looking for Adam.

He’d left feeling that same disappointment but he didn’t allow himself to whine about it like before. He just came back the next day, and the day after that, and so on until a week had passed. Soon he wouldn’t have all this time to play around.

That was a let down on its own, that he wouldn’t be able to play the video games for a while at least. Nigel had gotten into it in that short time. He’d traded slacks and dress shoes for jeans and sneakers.

So, it’s his final day playing and he’s playing for keeps. He’s not even paying attention to his score this time, he’s just plowing through…

“Oh, shit. Are those zombies? Am I playing a different game? And now I’m talking to myself… pathetic.” Nigel shakes his head and pauses the game. Maybe video games do rot your brain, he thinks. He also thinks it’s time to take his leave before he too becomes a zombie.

After he finishes this last game of course.

\---

It was a quick walk to get inside and to the counter cluttered with figurines and stickers peeling off at their white edges. “Hello. Two hours please.” Adam looked down to pull out the crisp bills and hand them to the cashier.

Adam had grown used to the friendly cashier that worked when Adam came, just as he got used to the heavy lights and occasional bouts of swearing that came along with the place.

He knew the man liked coffee, and during his lunch breaks he ate chips that got crumbs on the counter. He didn’t clean them up even though crumbs might attract ants. The named tag pinned to his shirt read ‘Aaron’ though Adam couldn’t remember ever having to need to use his name.

What Adam wasn’t familiar with was the way the man looked at him with exaggeratedly widened eyes, his eyebrows wiggling up and down as his head jerked out towards the computer desks.

“Hello. Two hours please.” He repeated but his request was only met with more odd, near painful looking movements to the side of the man’s head. As his uncombed hair followed its owner’s abnormal flicks, his chapped lips began to mimic the movements of speech but no sound came from them.

“Are you feeling sick? I can call someone.” That’s all Adam could offer the man that appeared to be going into some type of fit.

“Fine! Good luck kid.” The money was grabbed from Adam’s hand and the man turned back towards a very confused Adam.

Perhaps this place just attracted peculiar people; people often thought Adam was peculiar too. Maybe he belonged with the man in dog shirts and the cashier with the epileptic fits.  

The thought of Aaron’s uncomfortable actions were pushed aside however as Adam found himself back in the seat he picked when he first chanced into the cafe. His satchel was pulled up to his lap and the search for his headphones began.

\---

Nigel’s last game had turned into another before he decided he was truly done. So when he was killed once again he stood quickly, gathering the messenger bag he’d taken to bringing along, loaded with snacks.

He stepped away from the computer and was about to sulk from the building, his routine as of late. when he spotted short curled hair and a grandpa sweater. He mentally crossed his fingers, surprised at his sudden superstition as he approached his query slowly from behind.

He dropped into the seat to the man’s left, casual as he could muster, before finally turning to get a better look at him.

“Adam!” Nigel says far too loud. “It’s about fucking time gorgeous.”

\---

Adam had fallen into his quiet and familiar rhythm as he played and leaned back into his chair, rather proud of himself. He’d gotten in and paid, now he could enjoy his two hours. If he could just beat this level he cou-

The boy jolted up in surprise and with startled hands, ripped the headphones off, tangling himself and his previously tidy curls in the process.

“I don’t want to have sex with you!” The flustered, red faced Adam dared not look at the reappearing stranger as he fought with the long black cord caught in his hair. It wasn’t ‘fucking’ time, it was socializing time and if he was going to have intercourse with anyone it would not be Nigel.

The older man's face falls. “What the fuck, man? When did I ask for fucking sex?” Nigel can feel his face turning red as patrons and that same damned clerk stare at him like he's a degenerate. He hasn't even done anything yet!

“You just did! You said it’s…. that word’s time a-and it’s not because I don’t have a time for that!” Adam finally freed himself from the headphones and shoved them in his satchel, surely crumbling some of his papers as he did so. He abruptly stood from his spot and sent the wheeled chair spiraling back. “Goodbye, and you shouldn’t say things like that to people you don’t know very well.”

Nigel sat, shocked and confused until Adam was making his getaway. Not this time Nigel thought.

“I said it's about fucking  **time** . As in ‘it's about time you got here cuz I've been waiting for you to show your pretty little head all week’!”

As he said it Nigel realized how crazy he sounded. Was it impossible for him to be normal around people he liked?

He follows Adam out of the cafe past the curious bystanders. Nigel shields his eyes, squinting at the harsh light of day. It settles over him that he's wasted an entire week playing children's games and waiting for a guy who couldn't stand the sight of him.

“Typical. I leave the only life I've ever known behind, trying to start over but then I spend time obsessing over someone who hates me. Different country, same bullshit.” He scrubs a rough palm over his face in an attempt to remove the disgust he feels for himself. “Don't worry darling, I won't bother you again.” He says as he walks toward his car.

It was Adam’s turn to follow now. “Wait!” He crossed the parking lot to the man as his brain tried desperately to pick apart all of the words thrown at him all at once. He most certainly didn’t want to cause the same misunderstanding a second time.

“I don’t hate you! I-It’s difficult for me to understand when people say things that aren’t literal, or can have two meanings.” The man came to a stop in front of Nigel but his eyes flickered their attention to everywhere else, at that very moment they gazed out at the silent car. His hands balled up into tight fists that came down against his thighs, not so gently striking against him in their constant rhythm. The repeating action brought much needed focus. Part of him still felt missing, probably still sitting in the cafe where Adam was supposed to be.

A moment of silence came over him as an already overstimulated mind searched for the right words he was supposed to say. He’d been so quickly ripped away from his routine and reminded why he didn’t like today. “I only come on Wednesday afternoons at 2 p.m. I was on time, you don’t have to wait for me. And there are people that work there that can help you with interviews, I’m not an employee.”

Nigel’s frown deepened as he tried to follow what Adam was saying. Was it just a misunderstanding? Could he still have a chance? He smirked a little, happy for a moment that he wasn’t just a fuck up.

“I never thought you worked there darling. And I wasn’t waiting for you to help me with that bullshit again. I wanted to…” Nigel then realizes he never had a plan. Well he had but it stopped at ‘keep showing up until you find the pretty boy’.

“I thought we could have a date… or maybe just be- no! No, I wanted to take you for a date.” Nigel couldn’t believe what a tit he was being. Why was he fumbling words as though it was his first time chatting someone up?

“A romantic date?” Adam’s continuous hitting came to a pause as he thought about the other man’s wants. Dates were difficult, they meant preparation and finding an appropriate time, researching dating norms and topics that were appropriate. Would that be different if it was two men dating?

He’d been with men before, well a man but there weren’t very many words exchanged as they fumbled about, both looking for wordless comfort. Dates and pleasant conversation starters had never been needed.

Nigel grins a little. With the slightest interest from the other man his confidence returns.

“Do you like romance, Adam?” He purrs, taking a step closer.

The question was a difficult one to answer. Adam enjoyed romantic movies, and dates when they went well. He enjoyed sex. But romance was difficult to maintain, just like dates it took research and preparations and hurt feelings when Adam was incorrect. Harlan had explained to him ‘French is the language of love’ but romance and love seemed like their own language, one Adam couldn’t speak.

“Sometimes.” He decided after a moment of thought and contemplation. Any other answer would only be a half-truth.

Only sometimes, Nigel mused. “Maybe not romantic yet then. What if we were to go for coffee and a chat?”

“I don’t think I would be very happy, I don’t drink coffee. Do I have to drink coffee?” Adam’s blue hued eyes lost their interest in the empty car and instead shifted their attention to the man’s shoes against the black tar of the parking lot. Was an upset stomach and irritated nerves worth a date?

“No coffee.” Nigel nods.

“What do young people do on casual dates?” Nigel asks aloud but more to himself. “I wonder how you feel about ice cream.” Nigel taps a cigarette from the pack and pulls it out with his lips. He doesn't light it, only rests it in the corner of his mouth as he leans closer to Adam with a grin.

“I don’t know what young people like but I like ice cream, you don’t have to wonder anymore.”

Adam’s focus was caught by the slow movement. His eyes were pulled up to see the white toxic stick being tucked between dark lips. “A cigarette has 4,800 chemicals with 69 that cause cancer. And old age can further increase cancer risk, it’s not very wise to smoke.”

Nigel's eyebrows rise to meet the loose sweep of his bangs as he considers Adam's words. He's been smoking for decades now without being threatened by cancer once but to say he had zero health problems would be a lie. He's thought of quitting dozens of times but when stress takes hold, it's either take a puff or punch someone.

He plucks the cigarette from his mouth and tucks it behind his ear instead. “That's a very good point, darling. I usually subscribe to the thought, ‘that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger’ but perhaps it's time to explore new philosophies.”

“That’s a stupid philosophy. It’s just killing you slowly and I don’t think cigarettes give you strength.”

Nigel only grins at that response, taking another step closer to Adam. Now they are close enough that he can smell the boy's shampoo. What he really wants to explore is the younger man, try to figure him out.

“So, what say you gorgeous? May I buy you ice cream and spend a little time getting to know you? I think you may be able to help me discover a new way to live.”

Adam made no move towards or away from the man not quite familiar to him yet. He had noticed the shift, something a younger Adam might not have observed. He nearly felt prideful as his eyes moved from Nigel’s face to stare at the little black lines etched into his neck. The woman of ink was a spot further from the eyes growing closer and it had a pleasantness to it. It might feel nice to trace over the inky lines and feel the warm tanned skin underneath.

“We would be socializing, right?” Adam smiled. He still had time for that and ice cream might just be sweeter than what the cafe could serve him.

“Socializing? Absolutely. We can… do all the socializing you like darling.” Hope began to fully swell in Nigel’s chest. Was this actually going to fucking happen?

“Okay!” Adam laughed as his mind became set on his decision. He was doing something different today, surprising and unplanned. These rebellious acts were rarely committed but the promise of ice cream with Nigel was enough to pull him from his schedule, at least until his two hours were done.

**Author's Note:**

> While being a spacedogs role player, this is my very first officially posted work. Please let me know what you think, all criticism and thoughts are welcome. I wrote for Adam in celebration of Spacedogs Summer with my Nigel co-writer. My Adam obsessed Tumblr is https://adamrakiblog.tumblr.com/ while my wonderful Nigel can be found at https://the-romanian-devil.tumblr.com/


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